


Let Me Follow You Down

by Skew



Category: Gallipoli
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skew/pseuds/Skew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Frank had followed Archy, and Archy had followed him, and this was where that path had led them." - the outline of a relationship, in seven scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Follow You Down

(1)

Frank Dunne's done a lot of stupid things in his life, but this has to count as one of the stupidest. For the past five miles he's been cursing his own impulsiveness. All he'd wanted was a bite to eat, and now he's following some bloody kid who thinks he can walk fifty miles across the outback without being turned into a human raisin. It wouldn't be the first time that pursuing a passing fancy has got Frank into trouble, but it's the first time he's thought it might actually kill him.

There's nothing around them for miles. It's just flat white desert all the way to the horizon, with only the occasional scrubby bush or scuttling lizard to remind them that it's Western Australia and not the surface of the moon that they're tramping their way across. This landscape is brutal. The sun's so bright that both sky and ground are painful to look at. They haven't come by a source of water all day. He found a snake in his pack this morning - it was only trying to play the big man for Archy that stopped him from shrieking like a little girl.

Bloody Archy. With his relentless cheery optimism and sweet smile, and those legs that never seem to falter, even when Frank feels his are near to giving way from beneath him. It makes him feel old, and he's only twenty-four.

"Are we going to stop soon?" he calls.

"Just a little further," Archy calls back, some way ahead of him. "Just while the sun's still up."

"Why don't we walk at night? It's not as hot then."

"It's easier to navigate by the sun than the stars," Archy says. "Anyway, we've been walking all day, we've got to stop to sleep eventually. If we sleep during the daytime, we'll cook."

"We're cooking now! You could probably carve a slice off me and eat it!"

Archy laughs. "Just a _little_ further, Frank."

"You're gonna be the death of me."

When darkness finally comes, they stop for the night. They don't have much by way of shelter, only their packs for pillows and the hard earth to lay upon. It's surprisingly cold without the heat of the sun. Frank huddles up underneath his jacket, but it doesn't offer much comfort.

"Frank, stop shivering," Archy grumbles. "You woke me up again."

"Oh, s-s-sorry about that!" Frank snaps through chattering teeth. "I'll t-tr-try to freeze to death a little more quietly!"

He hears Archy sigh, and then suddenly feels warmth and solidity behind him, a body shifting into place. It's not much, but it's an improvement, and Frank's not too proud to refuse the offer of shared heat. Archy throws his blanket over them both, and they lie under it side by side, as close as possible without actually being in each other's arms.

"Thanks," Frank says quietly, and then, after some moments' pause, "How far off are we now?"

"Another day, I think."

"You _think_."

"You do trust me, don't you?"

Frank sighs. "I suppose I have to."

Archy sits up, propping himself on one arm. "Why did you come with me, anyway? You didn't have to."

"What, and let the dingos have you? C'mere." Frank drags Archy back down, eager to get that heat back. "I don't know, alright? I just felt like it."

"You're a strange man."

"You only just worked that one out?" Frank laughs. "Well, tough luck, mate. You're stuck with me now."

"Poor me," Archy says, but he says it with a smile, and when he lays down again, he lies on his side, facing Frank. Without thinking, Frank moves his arm to wrap it around Archy's shoulders, pulling him in close. Archy makes a small, pleased noise and tucks his head under Frank's chin. They fit together just right.

When he's woken the next morning by the rising sun, Frank finds that Archy has shifted so he's lying half on top of him, an arm flung across Frank's waist, head pillowed on Frank's chest. The sight of it makes warmth curl in Frank's stomach, and he waits a little longer than he ought before finally rolling Archy off him and starting to pack up his things.

 

(2)

It's such a relief to lie down on a proper bed again. It's only a narrow little cot in a back room, but it's got a real mattress, and clean sheets, and there's a roof over his head and warm food in his belly, and Archy feels _good_. It's a tingling, buzzing kind of good, like he gets when he's just won a race, and it's not just down to the wine. Tonight, he was treated like a hero. It's all going to be like that from here on in.

Frank's sprawled out on the other bed, wearing a look of supreme satisfaction.

"What're you grinning about?" Archy says, even though he knows he's wearing an equally stupid expression himself.

"Nothing. Everything." Frank shrugs and toes off one of his shoes, kicking it across the room. "We made it. Can you believe we made it?"

"I always believed we would," Archy says.

Frank snorts. "Yeah, you would as well." The other shoe follows its brother across the room, smacking against the wall.

"And it was worth it, wasn't it?" Archy goes on. 

"Worth it for you, maybe," Frank says. "That girl back there fancied you something rotten."

Archy frowns. "Which girl?"

"The one with the ringlets," Frank says. "Didn't you see the way she was looking at you?"

"You're making it up."

"Make things up? Me? Never!" Frank sits up, looking terribly offended. "Honestly, the way she said 'the light horse', she might as well have been saying 'saddle me up'." He flops back on to the bed, laughing.

"Oh, come off it," Archy says.

"She was giving you the eye, God's truth! You just didn't read the signs."

Archy squirms a little. Sex is a subject Frank has brought up several times during their travels, and one that Archy's always been quick to steer him away from. It's not that he doesn't know about it - you learn the facts of life pretty fast, growing up on a cattle station - but he was taught not to discuss it in polite company. Frank is very definitely not that, but Archy's embarrassed nevertheless.

"Well," he mutters, "It's not really my fault if I don't know much about women. There weren't any back home that I wasn't related to."

Frank gives him a thoughtful look.

"So you've never been with a woman?"

Archy shakes his head.

"Christ. No wonder you wanted to get out so bad."

Archy doesn't say anything. Maybe if he keeps quiet, Frank'll change the subject. 

No such luck.

"You know, it's not too late," Frank says. "I bet that girl wouldn't mind too much if you snuck upstairs to pay her a visit."

"No," Archy says.

"Wouldn't matter if her dad caught you, we'll be gone tomorrow."

"No!"

Frank looks baffled. "Shit, mate, you can't go off to the war a virgin."

"I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one," Archy says, getting up to shut off the lamp. "Anyway, she's not my type."

He is incredibly relieved that Frank does not ask what 'his type' is, then, because he is sure that a man like him would not like the answer. Relieved, that is, until he turns back and sees the moonlight shining through the thin curtains, lighting up Frank's leering face. He hates that look, that cocky 'I know something you don't know' grin. It makes him confused as to whether he wants to punch Frank or kiss him.

Archy pushes those thoughts aside and climbs beneath the sheets. Not that he's tired, but maybe if he feigns sleep he can endure this night with no further questions being asked.

He's almost managed to calm himself and start to doze off when he hears springs creaking, and the soft sound of bare feet padding across the floor. He doesn't think much of it, until his bed suddenly dips with extra weight, and he opens his eyes to see Frank knelt astride him.

"What are you doing?" he says.

"What you've been wanting me to do since we first set out together," Frank says. He rests his fingers on Archy's collar, stroking the bare skin just above it. "Stop me if I'm wrong."

Archy's eyes go wide and he feels his cheeks burning. "We shouldn't do this."

Frank snickers. "I didn't say anything about should or shouldn't. I said stop me if you don't want this."

Archy swallows hard, and glances down as Frank begins to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. 

"They might hear us - this isn't legal -"

Frank leans over him, breath warm against Archy's cheek as he pushes down the sheets and undoes the remaining buttons. He rests his palm on Archy's chest, feeling the frantic heartbeat.

"None of that sounds like 'stop' to me, pretty boy."

Archy looks straight up, forcing himself to meet Frank's eyes. 

"That's because I don't want you to stop."

Frank's smile is dazzling.

Archy's eyes slip closed and he leans up, expecting a kiss, but Frank's moved too fast for him, throwing the sheets off the bed and diving for Archy's belt. Without even thinking, Archy lifts his hips and lets Frank slide his pants down.

"That's it," Frank murmurs. He smooths his palm over the rapidly growing bulge in Archy's underwear, grinning wolfishly at the little gasp that Archy lets out. "Let's get a look at you."

Before Archy can say anything, Frank's delved his hand into his skivvies and pulled him out. The way he licks his lips at the sight of it is something that's going to remain emblazoned in Archy's memory for the rest of his life.

And then Frank's on him, and he can't think at all. He's wanked off plenty of times in the past, but it was a pitiful shadow of a thing compared to this - the slippery smooth wetness and the suction and the _heat_ , and Frank might be a bit sloppy and uncoordinated, and there's a definite scrape of teeth on the downstroke, but it's still the most overwhelmingly brilliant thing that Archy's ever felt.

He's barely got his head around the fact that it's happening at all when Frank's tongue flicks across the tip of his cock and suddenly he's coming, his orgasm charging up on him so fast that he doesn't even have time to give out a warning.

"I'm sorry," he says, as Frank pulls off and spits into his hand.

Frank laughs. "What the fuck for?"

Archy smiles and reaches out for him, pulling him into his arms, and kisses him and kisses him until they're both breathless.

 

(3)

"So, how was it?" Snowy says dourly as they emerge from the brothel.

"A feast for the senses!" Bill says. Both he and Barney are wearing the satisfied, slightly dazed expression of the recently very-well-fucked. The only difference is that Barney looks just about ready to go to sleep, leaning heavily against Bill's side, whereas the experience's made Bill come over all lyrical.

"You should've come in, Snow, even if you didn't want any of the girls you wouldn't have found a better place to lay your head," Bill goes on. "Silk sheets, soft cushions, sweet perfume in the air..."

"It smelled like a wrestler's armpit, and my girl had warts," Frank says flatly. Bill and Barney burst out laughing.

"Picked a wrong 'un, eh?" Barney says.

"They're all wrong 'uns," says Snowy, still scowling.

Frank feels all out of sorts. It wasn't the girl that was the problem - she did have warts, admittedly, but they were only on her hands, and she'd been sweet and giggly and remarkably enthusiastic, her cheeky smile and little squeaks of pleasure suggesting that she'd either genuinely been attracted to him or was extremely good at faking it. The difficulty had all been at his end. He'd got it up just fine, had her on top of him so he didn't have to do much work, but despite her perfectly acceptable looks and evident skill, he just hadn't been able to finish.

Not without thinking of Archy. It'd only been for a moment or two, while his mind had been wandering off the matter at hand, but the memory of Archy's mouth on him had sent him over the edge in seconds. He doesn't quite know what to make of that.

Frank's always seen himself as one of nature's wanderers. Working the railway's taken him all over Western Australia. They only ever stay in any given town a few days, but a few days is all he needs to find a pretty young thing, woo them, bed them, and then get out before the novelty wore off. Maybe they miss him when he's gone, wishing and praying that the tracks'll bring him back to their arms one day, but Frank always knows there'll be someone else just as good at the next stop along the line. Now he's got a funny feeling he's somehow ended up on the other side of the equation, and he doesn't like it one bit.

"Are you alright?" Barney says, peering thoughtfully down at him.

"'M fine," Frank says irritably, "I'm just tired."

"You know what I think?" Bill says.

"No, and I don't care either."

Bill glances up at Barney. "I think he's pining." He nudges Frank in the ribs. "There's someone you're not telling us about, isn't there?"

"Dunno where you got that idea."

"You've got that look about you," Bill says. "All sort of wistful around the eyes."

"He has, now you mention it," Barney says, nodding. "C'mon, Frank, who is she?"

"Oh, alright, fine, you've worked me out!" Frank says, throwing up his hands. "I can't hide it any longer - I'm madly in love with Snowy." He grabs Snowy and wraps his arm around him, leaning down to rest his head on his shoulder. "I can't help it. I'm crazy about that sour expression."

"Aw, fuck off!" Snowy snaps, shoving Frank away. Bill and Barney laugh hysterically.

Just like that, the moment's gone and the question forgotten, but Frank's sense of doubt lingers long after. He doesn't sleep very well that night.

 

(4)

It feels like they've been climbing forever, though it can't have been much more than a hour. Long enough, though, that it was light when they started at the base, and now night has definitely fallen.

"Why are we doing this, again?" Archy calls out, gasping for breath.

"Because we can!" Frank shouts back. He glances over his shoulder, grinning down at Archy. "And because you made me follow you across the bloody desert for days on end."

"I didn't make you do anything - you chose to come after me!"

Frank laughs. "C'mon, mate. Nearly at the top now."

He stretches out his hand and Archy reaches up, locking his fingers around Frank's wrist. Frank hauls him up and they scramble up the last few steps together until they finally collapse, exhausted, at the peak.

All of Cairo is laid out beneath them, city lights twinkling like fireflies. Their camp is nothing more than a series of white dots in the sand. Archy can see the sea in the distance, dark and glimmering. It can't be long now before they sail away.

"Hey, look at this," Frank says, tapping him on the shoulder.

Archy turns and follows Frank's gaze to see names carved on the step just above them. They're far from the only men to have made it all the way up here in the days since it was built - explorers, colonists, Napoleon's soldiers; men in their dozens (and even a woman or two) have come up here and proudly added their names to the roster.

He flashes Frank a smile, and reaches for his penknife.

"Bill'd hate you for this," Frank says. Archy's heard plenty of tales about Bill and his love of history, like he's heard about Barney's clumsiness and Snowy's temper, and all the scrapes they got themselves into travelling up and down Western Australia. He hopes he'll get to meet them one day, but right now, he's happy to have Frank to himself.

"Good thing he's not here, then," Archy says, and starts to chip away. He feels Frank's hand on his shoulder, and glances sideways to see Frank watching him, visibly delighted by the fact Archy decided to put his name first.

When he's done, Archy sweeps away the dust, and looks down at his work. _FRANK + ARCHY, AIF 1915._

"Nice one," Frank says. They shake hands over it, proud of a job well done. 

Archy tilts back his head, cups his hand to his mouth, and lets out a triumphant _cooee_. It echoes around the pyramids, chased by the one Frank does shortly after. (He can't do it quite as well, but it's not bad, for a city boy.)

A long silence follows after that. It's hard to know what quite to say. Really, Archy doesn't want to say anything at all. It's been a long while since he's had a chance to have some time away from the crowd, and he doesn't know when he might have it again. Unfortunately, Frank doesn't seem to share his appreciation for peace and quiet.

"You right there?" he says. "You aren't saying much."

"We don't have to talk all the time," Archy says. "Sometimes it's nice just to sit and appreciate the moment."

Frank thinks about it. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose it is."

He leans back against the rock, spreading his arms wide across the ledge above them.

"When you decided to come with me, did you ever think we'd end up somewhere like this?" Archy says.

"Not for a second," Frank says. "Of course, when I decided to come with you, I wasn't thinking at all."

"Why did you follow me, anyway?"

"Why do you keep asking?"

"Because you've never given me a proper answer."

Frank sighs. "You really want to know?"

Archy nods.

"Well, it was two things: one, I'd really been banking on winning that race, and without it I was flat out of money, and two, I was hoping to get my leg over."

"Oh, is that all I am to you?" Archy says, laughing at Frank's audacity. "A free meal and an easy lay?"

"I'm just saying, that's why I followed you," Frank says. "I wasn't expecting you to be so bloody determined to get out to Egypt." His expression softens a little, smile turning fond. "I wasn't expecting us to become... y'know. Mates."

"Well, I'm glad we did," Archy says.

"Yeah," Frank says, and pats Archy on the shoulder. "Me too."

Archy shuffles up closer, turning his face up towards Frank's, and receives a sly smile and then a kiss. That kiss is soon followed by several more, each one slower and deeper than the last.

And Archy thinks, as he cups Frank's face and cautiously licks into his mouth, that he's never felt this way before. There were sweet, friendly girls who used to flirt with him at race days, some of the bolder ones of which would take him by the hand and lead him behind the marquees to steal a few kisses, and he'd thought that was all there was. He'd thought it was a bit overrated, to be honest.

But Frank's different. Kissing Frank isn't just pleasant, it makes shivers run down his spine and warmth pool in his belly. He _wants_ Frank, so badly it aches, wants to kiss and touch him all over, make him feel good just for the sake of making him feel good. He'd follow him anywhere, no questions asked. He'd take a bullet for him, if he had to.

This must be what everyone else has been talking about all that time. And that's scary, a little, and it's certainly quite inconvenient, but it's too good for Archy to let it go to waste.

He breaks away from Frank with a gasp, their foreheads still touching.

"I love you," Archy whispers.

Frank laughs. "No you don't."

It's not the answer Archy was expecting, but he's not hurt by it.

"I do," he says, and kisses Frank again. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't."

Frank stares at him for a good long while. He doesn't say anything, but the look in his eyes slowly turns from uncertainty to something softer, something like acceptance, and Archy feels sure at that moment that his feelings are reciprocated.

He smiles and leans against Frank, resting his head on his shoulder. Frank wraps an arm around him, and they stay that way for a long while, alone together on top of the world.

 

(5)

Frank's good at bluffing his way into things. Into the race, into the Light Horse, into Archy's affections - he still can't believe what happened a few days ago, or the words he very nearly said that thankfully stuck in his throat at the last minute. 

So when they go off to the officers' ball, he's slightly put out that it's Archy who first figures out a way of getting them in. Only for a moment, though, because it's a good plan, and because he can't begrudge Archy anything. They get drinks - lots of drinks, as the night wears on - and they get nurses to dance with, and with the band playing and the confetti raining down from above, it's one of the best nights he's had since landing here. He just needs one more thing, and then it'll be perfect.

As the crowds begin to thin and people begin to leave, Frank makes some feeble excuse to the girl he's been dancing with and drags Archy outside, getting them out before the brass notice that they stayed there all night. He's got hold of Archy's wrist, and he keeps hold of it, not letting go until he's led him well away from the crowd.

"Where are we going?" Archy says.

"Anywhere that'll take us." Frank looks around, and stabs a finger ahead of him. "There!"

He staggers in to the foyer of the little guesthouse and conveys, through shouting and mime, that he wants a room, any room, for him and his mate. He pretty much throws the money at the startled-looking proprietress, and dashes away, Archy calling out a few apologies before running after him.

"Why are we at a hotel?" Archy calls, as Frank charges up a flight of stairs. "Why didn't we go back to camp?"

"You're a bright lad, work it out," Frank says.

"I don't - _oh_. Oh, right."

Frank laughs. "You alright with that?"

Archy's feet thump harder on the stairs, and Frank's startled by a sudden sharp slap to his backside. "You can work that one out," Archy says, as he streaks past him.

"Hey, wait for me, you don't even know which room we're in!" Frank shouts.

"Fourteen, wasn't it?" Archy says.

"Fifteen!" Frank calls back, overtaking Archy again and beating him to the door. Archy catches him by the back of the neck and kisses him hard, his mouth still tasting faintly of wine. Frank pulls away.

"Not out here, you silly bugger!" He fumbles open the door and pushes Archy inside, making a show of closing and locking it before grabbing Archy by the shoulders and shoving him up against the nearest wall.

They kiss fiercely, passionately, without restraint or decorum (not that Frank has ever had more than a passing acquaintance with either), all that hard work of pressing their uniforms and combing their hair ruined in a few moments of frantic groping. Frank scrabbles at Archy's clothing, throwing each item over his shoulder as it's peeled away. Archy responds in kind, helping Frank out of his tunic and then his shirt, the kiss only broken when they have to discard their hats and vests.

As soon as they're able, they're back in each other's arms, bare skin against bare skin. Frank can feel Archy's cock already stiff as a steel pole, pressing against his thigh. He slips a hand down between them, freeing himself and then doing the same for Archy.

"Oh god," Archy whimpers, and digs his fingers into the flesh of Frank's arse, pulling them flush. It's all getting a bit much - sweat-slick skin against sweat-slick skin, Frank's tongue slipping into Archy's mouth, Frank's cock sliding against the warm, firm muscle of Archy's stomach. If he's not careful he's going to lose it any moment now, and he had higher hopes for the night than that.

One of his hands creeps down Archy's back, teasing the skin at the base of his spine and then venturing lower. He places his lips against Archy's ear.

"You know how long I've been wanting to get inside you?" he says.

Archy backs away as much as he's able, glancing up and down the length of Frank's body.

"You're going to - is that - are you sure it'll fit?"

"Of course it will!" Frank says. He bends down and starts going through his pockets, looking for the oil he'd bought for exactly this purpose.

"Will it hurt?" Archy says.

Frank glances up. Archy doesn't look quite as enthusiastic about this as he'd hoped. He's gone a bit pale, and his cock's not half as perky as it was ten seconds ago.

"Aw, mate," Frank says, standing up again. "'Course I'm not gonna hurt you. I mean, er, we don't have to do this, not if you don't want to - but if we did, I promise I'd make it good." He leans in close, kissing up Archy's neck and petting his cock. "I'd make it _so_ good." 

Archy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Do it, then."

"Sure?"

"Yeah." He doesn't sound like he's sure.

"Really sure?" Frank says, rubbing his thumb over the head of Archy's cock.

"Gnyaah _frank_ that's not fair -" Archy forces himself to steady his breathing. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm really sure."

Frank grins. "Brilliant."

He stays true to his word. Usually Frank's a no-messing kind of bloke. Get in, get the job done, get out before dawn. He makes sure to get them off, of course, he's not a complete arsehole, but he's not one for hours of tender lovemaking. Archy's different, though. He's a cut above the usual, and he deserves the best.

Frank lays Archy down on the bed and prepares him carefully, soothing him with long, deep kisses, working him open nice and slow. When he finally turns him over and pushes inside, he heroically resists the urge to go for broke and keeps his movements slow, murmuring words of encouragement in Archy's ear.

There's something to be said for the slow approach, too, because he gets to appreciate all the things he'd normally miss: Archy's little gasps and moans, the beads of sweat that roll down the dip of his spine, how he goes from merely taking what Frank gives to bucking back against him, getting greedy for more. It might have started off gentle, but it ends up rough, with Frank grabbing onto the headboard for leverage and throwing his weight into it, Archy bracing himself on hands and knees and eagerly shouting his approval.

It all ends far too soon. Frank's the first to go, shouting bloody murder as he loses it inside Archy. He pulls out and flops onto his back, just in time to see Archy finish himself off, spilling all over his hand and onto Frank's stomach. Archy gives him a shaky, triumphant grin, and falls down on the bed beside him. They turn and look at each other - there's a moment of strange, uncertain tension, before Archy starts giggling and Frank finds himself joining in, both of them delighted and astonished by what they've just done.

It's the perfect end to a perfect night, as far as Frank's concerned. He's just about to drift off into a happy, sated sleep when Archy rolls over and places his hand on his chest. Fine, so the lad wants to cuddle. He's okay with that. But then suddenly the hand's moving - 

"Fra-ank," Archy says, fingers tickling down Frank's belly. "Are you going to sleep?"

"I was planning on it, yeah," Frank says.

"Oh, that's a shame," Archy says, nudging his hardening cock against Frank's thigh. "I was hoping I could do you next."

Frank groans. Bloody eighteen-year-olds.

 

(6)

There was a time when Archy had worried that the war might end before he'd ever fired a shot. Now they're finally at the front, it all seems much too soon.

It's quiet tonight. In the distance he can faintly hear the sounds of classical music coming from Major Barton's dugout, and there's always the noise of men and machinery moving around. But there's no singing tonight. Not much conversation, either. Most significant of all, the guns have gone silent; they rattled and roared and shook the ground for hours on end, and now what was once merciful stillness feels more like a brief lull in the storm.

Frank's sitting beside him, not saying a word. It's quite unlike him, but Archy can't blame him for being a bit down. He's lost two mates in a single day. If he'd stayed in the infantry, he might've gone down with them.

But he shouldn't think about things like that. Frank's here and alive with him today, and that's what matters.

"Do you want some chocolate?" Archy says, nudging Frank's shoulder.

Frank shakes his head. "Nah, you're alright."

"You've got to have something." Archy pokes the bar at him. "Come on."

Frank reluctantly snaps off a couple of chunks. He holds the chocolate with both hands, nibbling like a squirrel. On any other night, Archy'd tease him for it.

"What d'you know about death?" Frank says.

Archy frowns. "Enough, I suppose. I've seen dead animals lots of times, out in the bush. And there were a few times when one of the horses got injured and Uncle Jack'd have to shoot them. Once -" He pauses and runs his tongue over his dry lips. "I had a little brother who was stillborn. I didn't see him, I was just told about it."

"My mum died when I was sixteen," Frank says. "They had an open coffin at the funeral. It was horrible. They'd done something to her - made her look like a waxwork."

Archy rubs Frank's shoulder. "Uncle Jack used to say to me, what's done is done, so there's no point worrying about the past. It's the present you've got to concern yourself with."

Frank just grunts.

"Do you believe in God?" Archy says.

"Nah," Frank says. "Well. Sort of. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. But I definitely don't believe in heaven or hell."

"Why not?"

"What could God do to us that could be any worse than what we do to each other?"

Archy considers it. "Hell lasts forever."

"Yeah, and a God that'd punish you for the rest of time isn't a God worth following, in my book. Sounds like a nasty piece of work."

"But you can't have everyone go to heaven, that's not fair."

"Exactly," Frank says. "So I don't believe in that, either."

"I think you're missing a point somewhere..." Archy says, nervously glancing upwards as if at any moment an angry lightning bolt might come down on them.

"Well, maybe I am, but I still don't believe in it," Frank says. "When you're gone, you're gone, and that's that."

"Well, I think death is an adventure," Archy says. That's not entirely true, but now he's talking to himself as much as Frank. "I don't know where you go, but I reckon you've got to go somewhere. All those memories, all that energy and stuff - it can't just vanish into nothing."

"For both our sakes, I hope you're right."

Archy glances around, and moves in closer.

"It'll be alright," he says, reaching down to squeeze Frank's hand. "We can survive anything, you and me." And he trusts to God, or luck, or whatever else there is out there, that he's right.

 

(7)

In the evening, when the light is beginning to fade, Frank walks down the trench and gathers up the things left behind. One by one, he takes the bayonets from the wall and bundles together the letters and trinkets that will be sent back to their families in lieu of a corpse to bury.

It's not a job he wants, but there are few others left to do it. A good third of his company lie dead not more than a few yards from where he stands; another third are at the dressing station. Anyway, it doesn't bother him. He never got to know most of the company well enough to match names to faces.

He stops short by one, though, when he sees a medal and a pocket-watch. He doesn't need to look at the letter to know that it's _his_.

He takes a deep breath, and slides the bayonet from the sandbag, carefully cupping the trinkets in his hand. He sits down, alone in the trench, and looks them over. The watch is Uncle Jack's, he remembers Archy telling him that. It'd only be right to return it.

The medal, though - that's the one that Archy won the day they met. If Frank'd won, he'd have taken the money and never thought twice about Archy, and neither of them would be here. Or if Archy had won but Frank hadn't followed him, Frank wouldn't have told him to go to Perth, and neither of them would be here. If Archy had won and Frank had stayed back in Perth, then Archy'd be the runner, and still be alive...

But Archy was always going to win, because he was faster. And they were always going to end up here, because they'd both wanted to follow each other. Frank had followed Archy, and Archy had followed him, and this was where that path had led them.

Frank stands up and glances at the lip of the trench. Somewhere over there is Archy, or what remains of him. But he can't bring himself to believe that whatever's lying in the dust can be _all_ of Archy. His smile, his laugh, the power in his legs, the silly ideas in his head, whatever damn foolish part of him had loved Frank... The little bugger was right. How could all of that just vanish into thin air?

Somewhere, Frank decides, not so very far from here, Archy's still running. And when he reaches the finish line himself - in second place, again - he'll give Archy back his medal in person.

He slips it into his pocket, and heads down along the line.


End file.
